


Exploding Pens Can Be So Tricky To Get Right

by frostedshadow



Series: It's All Fun Until Someone Gets Hurt... Then It's Hilarious [2]
Category: James Bond (Movies), Sherlock (TV), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Mycroft likes to phone Q, Pre Relationship, Q has a chance to get even, mentions of relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 08:01:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostedshadow/pseuds/frostedshadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q really likes getting the last word... Which a certain 00 is about to get. Well, that and you really don't mess with a Holmes' boy's tea. Really, it's just bad for your health.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exploding Pens Can Be So Tricky To Get Right

James Bond was not nervous. He did not know the meaning of the word. Of course he was most definitely not nervous about seeing his Quartermaster. Fuck. It had been two weeks of no Q, then a summons via text had him sauntering towards Q-branch. James was not going to let anything bother him. After all, what could one skinny little tech do? Well, it was slightly worrying that Q had yet to take down the video. It was almost as if he was too busy to notice something. Which begged the question, what was he too busy on? James sighed to himself, then breezed into Q-branch. When he didn’t immediately see his Quartermaster, James entered the man’s office, uninvited of course. 

Strangely, the room was empty. Which was odd, seeing as James had been summoned. James walked behind the desk, and toyed with the idea of sitting in Q’s chair until he returned. A small box caught his attention, just as he was about to sit. The box was nothing special, but it was slender, about the size an expensive pen would sit in. But why would Q have a pen on his desk? It wasn’t as if he had a small holder with plenty of pens. Besides, he always seemed to be on his laptop, so why on Earth would he need another pen? Unless... James opened the box, and grinned. There, a set of instructs for how to make the pen explode. James bounced lightly on his feet, and quickly tucked the pen into his jacket. Grinning to himself, James swept from the room, and made his way down the hall to where Q did his experiments. 

“Ah, 007. Here, papers, a ticket.” Q held out an envelope to 007. He noted the slight bounce to James’ step, and inwardly smiled. He wouldn’t have the right to call himself a Holmes, if he couldn’t read in James’ posture that the man had stolen the exploding pen from his desk. 

“Thank you, Q. And my gun?” James quirked an eyebrow. He loved the new guns from Q-branch, if only because they were responsive to him alone. 

“Please, just stay away from Komodo Dragons. I really do not want to have to replace another weapon.” Q sighed, and handed James a box. 

“Doubtless M will make you give me another one.” James replied smartly. He checked the clip, then fit it neatly in his holster. 

“Perhaps I can get him to put a limit on the number of guns you receive.” Q mused to himself, and he let a soft smile ghost his lips. James licked his lips faintly at the smile, and the wonderful things it did for Q’s face. 

“But then Christmas never does come early. Anyways, must be off.” James sped away from his Quartermaster, and he did not allow any of his treacherous thoughts to linger on the younger man’s smile. As soon as James was gone, Q’s phone rang. 

“Komodo Dragons? Really, Quillan? How, well, adorable.” Mycoft’s voice drawled through the reciever. 

“As if you don’t have such personal comments for Greg.” Q snarked. He loved his brother, truly he did, but Mycroft had a talent for getting under his brothers’ skin. Of course, Q generally didn’t rise to the bait as quickly as Sherlock did. And, Mycroft wouldn’t be a Holmes if he didn’t pick up on that. 

“Feeling a little testy, Quillan? Why you haven’t even bothered to correct me about your name. You aren’t still upset about the tea thing, are you?” 

“It’s Q. And, well, I have a lot on my mind, Mycroft.” Q sighed, and leaned against one of the work tables. He would most definitely not acknowledge the tea comment. And, while he generally enjoyed conversations with Mycroft, he really should be getting some sleep. It had become clear that, after Skyfall, James would not have any other voice in his ear, but Q’s. Which meant that Q had to take advantage of James’ travel time, and get some sleep. 

“Now, now, Q, are you up to some nasty little pranks? Naughty, naughty. Sherlock would be proud.” 

“Yes, because we all live to make Sherlock proud.” 

“Hmm, you can tell him that yourself in a week, when we get together for tea. And bring your agent, 007 is it? I am bringing Greg, and John will undoubtedly tag along. It is only fair. Oh, and call Mummy, she worries.” Before Q could splutter a comment through his indignation, Mycroft hung up. Q slammed the phone onto the table, then face palmed. How he hated it when Mycroft ordered him around like he was still a child. If Q was feeling fair, which he wasn’t, Mycroft had been twelve when Q was born, and had essentially raised both of his younger brothers. The hazards of an absentee father, and a mother who was more concerned about family image than the family itself. And, while this was better then no family at all, Q wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to drag James into the Holmes family. Not that Mycroft had actually given him a choice. 

\--- 

“Such a nice pen.” James hummed to himself. For once, he was actually doing his post mission paperwork. Of course, it helped that he was using the stolen _exploding_ pen from Q. Unfortunately, this last mission had not really given him a chance to use said pen. Well, unplanned for field tests were James’ specialty... James pressed the pen top in the special combination, but before he could fling it away from himself- he was supposed to have fifteen seconds- the thing had a tiny explosion, with lots of black smoke in his face. And, was that axe deodorant he could smell? Which, Q knew he hated above everything else. James closed his eyes, and, no, he would not be impressed with his Quartermaster for being so clever in his payback. Instead, he would plan his next prank. And he would get Q, and all would be good. Of course, he needed to be in the area for that to work. 

\--- 

“Quillan? Do I have to go to this tea?” Sherlock whined into the phone. Of course, Sherlock only ever whined to Q. To whine to Mycroft would be to admit defeat. 

“It’s Q now. And yes, you do. I want to meet this John I have heard so much about. And it will be nice to be formally introduced to Greg.” Q replied absentmindedly. In his head, a mantra of _donotlaughdonotlaughdonotlaugh_ rang out. Because he was most definitely not watching James Bond’s shocked face, as the exploding pen did not go as James had expected. 

“Did your prank go as plan?” Sherlock mused. 

“Please, Sherlock, no deductions when I am trying to work. Look, I have stuff to do, you know, put explosions in things, hack other things. Work. See you at tea, and please don’t do anything to piss John off before hand. From what Mycroft has said, he actually sounds like he might be good for you.” Q hung up before Sherlock could respond. Then, to solidify the fact that he, the baby Holmes, had the last word, Q removed his phone battery. Luckily, he had received his new work mobile a few hours before, so there was no way either of his brothers had that number. Savoring that small victory, Q picked up his scrabble Q mug, and replayed the video... and laughed.


End file.
